Super Easy Xylophones
by Sianatra
Summary: Precocious Rose gets stuck with her nose in a naughty book, and Ron is forced to make up an acronym for something he should have told her about long ago. It's a good thing she's only 8, right? He can still wait a few more years... in theory.


Super Easy Xylophones™

**Rose, Age 8**:  
>"Father, I don't believe you comprehend the meaning of the word 'alone.' I was merely asking you to stay out of my room while I was reading this book, yet here you are in front of me, gaping like a goldfish that hasn't been fed for an indiscernible period of time. Perhaps you misunderstood me. I shall rephrase. I do not wish to be in the presence of your company whilst I am pondering over the contents of this rather fascinating novel. I do not wish to be disturbed, nor do I wish to do anything other than read at this present moment in time. Be a good man and leave me to my amusement, will you?"<p>

The words that sounded like they should be spewed from the mouth a Harvard scholar were actually coming from the lips of my daughter. She'd taken up the classics recently, and had come into full inheritance of her mother's cognitive genes. Jane Austen was one of her new favorite authors. We had all become effectively bored by her long, rambling tangents at the breakfast table as she animatedly described Mr. Darcy, fawning over him like he was made of gold or something, using long and complicated words, some of which I'd never heard before in my life. The new vocabulary was as much of a shock as anything else. Half the time, I could hardly understand what she was saying, so it was a good thing Hermione's linguistic communication skills exceeded hers, otherwise, we would have had quite the situation on our hands.

"Father, pray tell me why you have yet to leave the room."

I was shaken out of my silent reverie. "Well, Rosie, I was just about to call you down for dinner," I said, trying to sound slightly enthusiastic. "We're having Sheppard's Pie, your favorite!"

She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like "ghastly cholesterolic treat"; however, she may have been saying something more along the lines of "yummy and delicious meat." I was uncertain, however, seeing as she had been behaving rather pessimistically as of late. I wouldn't put it past her to raise her righteous nose and scoff at what she had once considered a delicious meal.

"Rose." My voice was more stern now. "Put down the book and come eat dinner. The family is waiting."

She heaved an exquisite sigh. "As your daughter, I understand that I have certain obligations to uphold, however, dinner is not one of them, especially not when that dinner happens to be such a common meal. I lunched on saltines, and I feel perfectly satisfied now. It is not decent of you to coerce me from my present state of happy being."

I plucked the book from her hands and winced as she let out an ear-piercing shriek. "As your father," I said warningly, pulling the book out of her reach, "it is not decent of _you_ to be behaving in such an immature manner. Dinnertime is important to our family, you know that. And yet you want to skip it. For what? What could possibly be so important that you would want to miss out on the most delicious meal of the day?" I examined the cover of the book she had just been reading. On it, a gorgeous, tanned girl lay resting on a surfboard in the middle of the ocean, her bikini just barely covering her private areas. The image was meant to be sensual. She stared out from her frozen spot on the page, her eyes narrowed and lustful. I glanced at the title. _Love in Laguna_. My heart began beating a little faster. "Where did you get this, Rose?" I asked slowly.

"Well, yours and Mom's room of course. You neglected to take me to the library this afternoon, so it was only obvious that I had to find _something_ in this wretched house to read."

Already, I was beginning to remember. I had bought the book for Hermione for our first Christmas together, meaning it to be a kind of gag gift. She'd smirked when she opened it, then the book had been placed on the shelf in our room, never to be opened. However, through all the years, she had kept it as a kind of memorabilia, a tribute to the first holiday we shared together. Of course, she never read it. One glance at the title and just about anyone could assume it was a cheesy romance tale. Rose, however, did not understand this quite yet. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on my forehead. I was beginning to recollect the plot of the book. _A striking teenager named Anabelle takes a trip to Laguna Beach over the summer, but she ends up catching more boys than waves. Under the bright California sun, the men fall at her feet in the sand, slaves of her beauty, and all of a sudden, every desire she's ever had is coming true…_

"So… eh… how's the book so far?" I asked hoarsely, trying to contain my panic. "Any good parts?"

"Well, yes actually," said Rose, brightening considerably. She leaned back against the wall. "Annabelle is a remarkably seductive character. Though the book is poorly written, the author did manage to get that straight. My favorite part was when she kissed a boy she'd only just met. It was quite humorous."

I cleared my throat. "Any… any words you didn't know, Rosie?"

"No. I think I knew every word." But then she frowned, considering. "Well, as a matter of fact, I do believe there was _one_ word I couldn't quite understand from context. It started with an s. What was it again…? Sec? Sev? Se – "

"–x?" I finished reluctantly.

"Yes, that was it," she said, looking immensely relieved. "She was talking about how much she wanted sex in one chapter. It's seemed like something very desirable. She absolutely raved about it."

"Honey…" I said, frantically searching my mind for a way around this situation. I couldn't let Rose have any ideas going into that head of hers. I felt like such a bad parent for allowing her mind to be filled with such trash. Suddenly, an answer came to me, in a most brilliant flash of inspiration.

"Honey," I said, my voice more collected. "Sex isn't a word, it's an acronym. It stands for… Super Easy Xylophones. Yeah," I said, growing more confident. "it does." The fabrication was becoming much easier now. "It's a company in England that makes really easy-to-play xylophones. In the story, Annabelle must be wanting a xylophone. They are very cool, you know. I got to play one once, and it was a thrilling experience."

Rose crossed her arms. It didn't seem like she believed me, but then she spoke. "I'm not inclined to fancy such childish instruments, however…" she trailed off. "Do you believe it would be possible for me to receive one? On my ninth day of birth?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized she was talking about her birthday. "Oh, of course," I said quickly, smiling at the fact that she believed my tale. The Super Easy Xylophone line didn't exist, obviously, but I figured I could get George to work something out for me. "Come on, Rosie, let's go eat dinner," I said, gesturing downstairs. "Your Mother and Hugo are waiting."

She beamed and took my hand. "You know, I think I will join you. Perhaps the Sheppard's Pie won't be so atrocious after all."

We walked out of the room and down to dinner, but before we sat down at the table, I tossed the book in the trash can, smiling widely as I heard it clunk all the way to the bottom.

It's where it belonged, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>an.** Tell me what you think? Everyone who reviews gets their very own Super Easy Xylophone(:  
>xoxo, -Sianatra<p> 


End file.
